


A Little Late Night Pick Me Up

by lizook12



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1367497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the multiple e-mails don’t help the ache.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Late Night Pick Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of got it in my head that I wanted to write a companion piece to "All I Want is You" except it's not really a companion piece as it's more a mirror piece (yes, I just made that term up right now) and, in any case, this is what happened. 
> 
> Title taken from Cole Swindell's _Hope You Get Lonely Tonight_

Washing the remaining shampoo from her hair, she reaches out, turning the water a notch warmer. The spray immediately heats up, dancing across her back as she closes her eyes, lets it soothe the tension she’s been carrying around the past two days. 

It’s not that she doesn’t trust him, that she doesn’t know he had very good, logical reasons for asking her not to come along on this particular Bratva “business trip”, but it feels like eight or nine days instead of two and even the multiple e-mails don’t help the ache. 

The way he’d pushed her against the bookshelves, his mouth warm on her throat, hands desperately pulling at the tie of her dress, the night before he left only fuels her longing. 

Her need. 

Inhaling, she leans back against the wall of the stall, wet tile rough against her skin as she lifts the detachable shower head from its perch. 

The pulsing water beads over her shoulders, warms the leg muscles she abused so thoroughly in training that afternoon.  

She shifts the setting on the head, turning it from an all-over spray to a focused one, something that will work away any remaining stress that hums through her body and...

Oh. 

_Ohhhhh._

It’s a soft gasp, an exhale in the thick air as the water beats against her inner thigh and suddenly she can almost feel him crowding her against the wall, his jaw rough on her thigh as he lifts her leg over his shoulder.

Her free-hand flattens against the tile and she spreads her legs just so, bends forward so her back is completely curved. Forehead pressed to the sliding door, she directs the spray between her legs, moans as it courses over her clit in deft circles. 

She quickly finds herself near the edge and she changes direction, wanting—needing—to prolong the feeling, the warmth of his scent lingering in the towel draped over the door, the heat of him returning to her over and over and over.

A new rhythm begins, the shower head tipping left and right and left again as her other hand moves from the wall, cupping her breast. Rolling her nipple between her fingers, she lets out a ragged breath as her thumb brushes across the peak, time and again echoing the movement between her legs. 

“Shit, yesss.”

She presses her lips together, heat skating down her spine as her hips tilt forward, seeking more pressure. 

More pleasure. 

_Moremoremore._

Desire sparks throughout her and she turns her head to the side, groaning as her tempo increases against all odds. Her fingers drift down her side, splay over her hip, and she can imagine him holding her to him, his legs rocking against the backs of her thighs, his chest pressed to her back. 

She alters her grip slightly, water thrumming over her clit once, twice, and...

She’s falling. 

The shower door rattling in its track as her head flies back, shoulders rocking against the wall as her orgasm takes her.

“Jesus.”

Her eyes blink open and, god, she feels like she stands there for a half hour, naked and satisfied and warm yet suddenly ready to go all over again as his gaze drifts over her. 

“I...”  

“Look fucking amazing.”

He slides the door open a little further and she idly wonders how she didn’t register it opening before. Part of her knows it’s because she couldn’t hear much over the whir of the water and the pounding of her own heart, but the other half wonders if it’s because she innately knew it was him. 

That she was safe and about to be very, very happy. 

“Well, yeah, I’m wasting some water though.”

“Seeing you come is never a waste.” His lips brush over hers and she smiles against him even as his pants get soaked by the errant spray of the upturned shower head. “Never.” 

And with that he’s hauling her from the stall, his hands skating over her damp skin as he kicks the water off with his foot. 

“No?”

“No, in fact, I think...” He grins, hitching her high against the vanity as he kneels, jaw pressing to the inside of her knee. “I’m going to make it my own homecoming present.” 


End file.
